


Moments

by DayOfTheBethan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Haircuts, I didn't know a hair cut could lead to so many feelings, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 03:48:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1925649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DayOfTheBethan/pseuds/DayOfTheBethan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3+1 - 3 things Bucky experiences again for the first time since regaining his memories, and 1 thing he experiences for the first time ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this idea came from, but it's here now, and apparently I can't write Bucky without being at least a little bit mean to him...  
> I don't own anything, unfortunately.  
> Comments would be wonderful, if you should feel so inclined...

The first time Bucky decides he wants to get a haircut, to finally rid himself of the last physical vestiges of HYRDA, he stands in front of the barbershop, sees the leather chairs, and comes back to himself half an hour later curled in a ball in a nearby alleyway. He must have somehow rang Steve, as the blonde is kneeling in front of Bucky, looking concerned.

"Hey, Buck. What happened?"

"I wanted a hair cut..." he mutters and suddenly Steve understands. The file Natasha had given him had some images of the chair HYDRA had used to control Bucky. The similarity with a barbers chair is striking.

Bucky has always felt better when Steve is around, and it's no different now. His tense muscles finally start to relax as the memories of arching against restraints and electricty searing through his brain dissapate slightly. Bucky uncurls slightly and leans into the hand Steve places on his shoulder, seeking out the comfort of the familar and friendly touch. 

"I thought I...would be able to trust someone...to be at my back with a pair of scissors...didn't think about anything else." he forces a small laugh out. "Didn't think a damn chair would be a problem, it's just a chair, it's not like it ever did anything its a chair it can't do anything it's not a person it didn't do anything didn't wipe me didn't get rid of you didn't didn't..." he's vaguely aware he's rambling and panicking but can't seem to stop himself, at least not until Steve increases the pressure on his shoulder and brings Bucky's attention back to him with a jolt. 

"It'll take a while Buck, it's only been a few months."

Bucky nods, still half-lost in his own brain. "Did...you used to cut my hair, didn't you?"

Steve smiles gently and it's the best sight Bucky could have seen at the moment. "Yeah, I did. We could never afford a proper hair cut, so I did yours and you did mine."

Bucky nods to himself, the two memories at war inside his head - the two friends sat in a kitchen with creaky floorboards and chairs that looked like they were about to fall apart, joking about the dames Bucky had managed to convince to go on a double date with them the week before, and the man sat in a leather chair surrounded by machinery and men with guns, listening to an old man spout rhetoric at him. The difference between the two couldn't be more apparent, and Bucky knows which one he would like to repeat.

"Will you...not today, I can't do it today...but will you cut my hair? I trust you."

Steve smiles again, wider this time. "Of course I will. We'll even do it in the kitchen, like when we were kids, no matter what Stark says."

Bucky nods shakily and shifts to a more comfortable position - as comfortable as he could get on a cold concrete floor, wedged in between a dumpster and a metal bin.

"You want to stay here a little while?" Steve asks, and settles down to sit cross-legged when Bucky nods again. The pair sit in silence for a few mintes until Steve has to ask:

"Hey, Buck? Why the sudden want for a hair cut?"

He lets out a short sharp laugh. "Wanted to prove I'm a fully fuctioning human being. And to get rid of the last thing I can of _them_. That didn't work, did it?" he says with a wry curl of his lips.

Steve's heart drops a little when he hears this. "You don't need to prove anything, pal. Not to me, not to anyone in the Tower, not to any-"

"I need to do it for myself." Bucky interrupts harshly. "If I can't even go to the barbers without having a panic attack, what use am I? And you can't tell me you don't understand, I spent most of our childhood rescuing you from people you tried to prove something to, punk."

Steve does understand and even though the very idea of Bucky feeling like he needs to prove something breaks his heart, he nods. "I get it." 

It's another half hour before Bucky feels ready to leave the alley and face the world again, and by that time Steve has a numb backside and pins and needles running up one leg. He stumbles when he stands, and Bucky sniggers as he hauls himself to his feet with his metal hand. 

"Yeah yeah, laugh it up jerk." Steve grumbles, but the fond smile on his face shows he doesn't mean it in the slightest. He throws an arm around his friend's shoulders as they walk out the darkness together.

****

It takes a week for Bucky to ask Steve for a hair cut. The bigger man is in the kitchen with his sketchbook, drawing anything that grabs his attention - at that moment, it's Tony and Pepper having a conversation in the living room, heads bowed together. It's a a moment that's not too intimate, but still one that Bucky is surprised Steve feels he is allowed to capture. He almost feels guilty for breaking Steve's concentration, but his hair had got caught in the metal plates of his shoulder three times already that day, and it was driving him mad.

"Hey." Bucky says from the counter, leaning against it and chuckling slightly as Steve jumps a little.

"Bucky! How long have you been there?"

"Just got here, don't worry. Are you free...?" he asks, inclining his head to the sketchbook.

"Yeah, I was just finished. It's Pepper's birthday soon, I wanted to draw something for her, she loves art." he explains the intrusion. "What's up?"

"Hair cut?" Bucky says hopefully, holding out a towel with a raised eyebrow. Steve grins.

"Sure thing. Here," he stands up. "sit down. I just need to find some scissors...ah, here we go." he brandishes them with a small grin. "Short back and sides?"

"Whatever you used to do."

Steve nods and drapes the towel over Bucky's shoulders. "Anything I shouldn't do?" he asks before he starts.

Bucky shakes his head slightly. "I'll tell you." he promises. The first snick of the scissors makes him flinch a little, but quickly tells Steve to carry on. The feeling of someone behind him, doing god knows what is only tempered by the fact it's Steve. Bucky rests his chin on the chair back and tries to not crush the frame with his metal hand as the scissors get closer to his neck. He leaves finger-shaped impressions when the metal touches the skin, but it's only a moment of panic. Bucky tries to lose himself in the strangely familiar sensation of Steve manipulating his head this way and that to make sure the cut is even on both sides, but it all gets too much when Steve places a hand on either side of Bucky's head. 

"Steve."

Steve immediately removes his hands and takes a step back before moving to stand in front of Bucky. 

"I'm done now anyway." Bucky doesn't even nod in thanks before he's standing up and leaning heavily on the counter, breathing hard and eyes closed. He takes a minute before standing up straight and examining his new hair cut in the shiny metal of the fridge. Bucky turns to a worried looking Steve with a smile.

"Thanks Stevie." and the blonde can finally let out a breath of relief that he'd not done anything to damage his friend even more. Once the worry has passed, Steve grins at the sight of Bucky looking more like himself than he has done since the bridge in D.C. It's not just Steve who relishes the transformation. Bucky runs his hand through his new hair style a few times, getting used to the shorter length again, and he can't stop looking in the mirrored fridge door.

"I look like me again." he grins. "I didn't realise how much difference a hair cut would make." His eyes are still the same, dark with everything he's done, but with less to shadow them, and no curtain of hair to hide behind anymore, Bucky already feels like he can do so much more.


End file.
